


Don't Dance

by Bittodeath



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: HQ Rarepair Exchange, Implied Sexual Content, Kissing, Like Heavily Implied, M/M, Multi, Pole Dancing, Polyamory, makeout, mentionned IwaKyouHaba
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-07
Updated: 2017-03-07
Packaged: 2018-09-30 13:25:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10163954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bittodeath/pseuds/Bittodeath
Summary: Based on this prompt: Person A has a questionable after school activity/job. Person B catches them in the act but has to keep it a secret from Person C (in a non-poly ship: could be Person A's mother/friend/etc.). Person B discovers they are unable to keep secrets, apparently.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Just so you all know I'm BoKuroTeru trash.

Terushima grabbed his keys and bent over the couch to kiss Bokuto’s lips, who had bent his head backwards.

“Alright, I’m off!”  
“Work hard”, Bokuto said with a grin, before turning his attention back to the TV.

Kuroo hadn’t come back yet from another tutoring – he was such an amazing teacher he barely had time for his own studies these days – and Terushima worked most nights, studying trade by himself during afternoons while Bokuto went on with his career as a professional volleyball player. Everything was fine and good, except for one thing: Terushima didn’t really work as a waiter in a top-restaurant, no. But it was a fine excuse for his weird schedule, his wage mostly made of cash and the fact that none of his boyfriends would be able to see him at work – they couldn’t afford a several stars restaurant, could they?

The truth, most people would have said, was gruesome. Terushima thought otherwise, but he wasn’t so sure about either Bokuto or Kuroo’s reactions, and preferred to keep it a secret. He smiled. Yeah, he enjoyed his work as an “erotic dancer”. Fancier than a strip-teaser, because most people didn’t truly appreciate how much work was put into his choreography, his songs and his outfits. The thing was that his work was a well-kept secret and he intended to take this one to the grave.

Like his relationship with Kuroo and Bokuto, this choice had been obvious for him – and absolutely not for everyone. How the little guy from Miyagi ended up with two of the most popular Tokyo guys was still a mystery for most people. Not for him, though. He knew how he had weaved his own destiny to get what he wanted – okay he was still a bit bewildered by how _well_ it had worked. Hadn’t expected such a success, you see. But that was not the point – the point was he had always admired erotic dancers, pole-dancers and the likes, and he was gifted with being exceptionally supple and graceful. He had only polished these gifts for a highly rewarding jobs that was fun most of the time. Not always, of course, but he enjoyed it.

There was a skip in his step when he arrived, going in through the backdoor and trudging towards the lodge. Two of his co-workers were already there, getting ready, and he greeted them loudly before flopping down on his stool. He started with his make-up, which was highly necessary as spotlights tended to give weird hues to his skin if he didn’t. Maybe also because he _loved_ glitter. It was a calm, peaceful ritual that kept the gnawing in his stomach at bay and helped him focus on his performance. Apply the concealer – sparse and carefully, because getting smudges anywhere was out of the question – and then the sparkling gold powder he used these days. _Ilios_ , the Sun, was his theme this time. He had taken his inspiration from Greek mythology, and the tragic love stories of Apollo, the solar god of beauty – quite fitting, wasn’t it? This performance was a success, so far. He then lined his eyes with kohl, before adding more gold around them, and golden lipstick. He smacked his lips, satisfied with his make-up, before standing up to remove his clothes.

“You know you could spare us the sight of your naked ass walking around”, one of his co-workers grumbled.  
“I love you too”, he replied cheerily, posing with a hand on his hip.

Still, he grabbed his costume from a hanger and put it down on his stool, before grabbing the concealer again. Tongue poking out from his lips, he applied concealer to the small tattoo of a triquetra between his shoulder-blades, with some help. Then he went down to business and started to put on his costume – the golden leathered booty shorts that barely hid anything, riding so low on his hips it only concealed his cock, the small gilded chains he wrapped around one of his thighs, his wrists, with a simple band around his neck as a choker. He then sat down and put on his shoes – open high-heels that he laced and knotted around his calves and that did wonders on his legs. Last came the too-small white and almost transparent toga he wore and dropped at some point.

In the meantime, his other co-workers had arrived and had started their own routine. Terushima only started second, but his heart was already beating hard at the idea of the stage waiting for him out there, behind the opaque black curtain. He could feel his blood thrumming in his veins, impatient to get to dancing, to rapture his public’s attention. It was a Saturday evening, the club was bound to be packed, and the money to flow.

“Ilios, it’s your turn”, the manager said, and Terushima walked up to the curtain.

This. This was his hour of glory.

 

Bokuto had gotten tired of waiting at home – he wanted to go out, to move. But both Terushima and Kuroo were working, and after checking with Iwaizumi, he had confirmation that it was his date night with Kyoutani and Yahaba. He grumbled a bit, feeling his mood plummeting, before he decided to go out. Swiftly, he grabbed his jacket, his wallet, and locked the door behind him. Maybe he’d be able to walk Terushima back home this time? Not so sure though, his boyfriend seemed to be intent on keeping them away from his work. It wasn’t really surprising, as Terushima was one of those people who refused to mingle in any way their private and professional lives, but he would have liked it if he could pick him up after hours and go back with him to their apartment where Kuroo would be waiting for them.

He stopped by one of his favourite bars to have a drink, before deciding that he didn’t want to drink as much as he wanted to move. He stopped by a club, and scrunched his nose. No, he didn’t want to go there. Not the following either. And not the third. All his usual hanging out places seemed to bore him. He wanted to try something new – something entirely new. Have a good experience he could then share with Terushima and Kuroo, because he would never let them out on the fun. His eyes stopped on a building with glowing red-lights all around, and deep bass making the walls vibrate. It seemed to light a fire in his veins, and not waiting a minute more, he paid the entrance fee and made his way inside. It was dark and the music was growing louder and louder with each step forward, and it felt like it was shaking his very bones. He would have liked to pretend he didn’t know what was waiting for him inside – but he somehow knew, and it made his fingers shake and his cheeks blush.

Finally, he stepped inside the main room, filled with people, all staring at the body undulating on the main stage, under the lights. His heart started to beat faster at the sight – at the way its back curved gracefully, and those high-heels that made him wonder how it was humanly possible to wear them – but there was something familiar and the way those arms moved, and in the proud hold of this head, making his hear flutter. He stepped closer and closer, pushing through the crowd, completely entranced by this unknown body that seemed so disturbingly familiar. He stopped only when he reached the edge of the stage, neck craned up so he could keep on looking at the lean, yet muscular dancer who was hanging upside-down from his pole. His white tunic was falling around his hips and revealing his shorts that only barely deserved this name, clearly showing his thighs flexing to keep him hanging like it was nothing – and then suddenly he was falling, head first, and – no, he stopped at the last moment, before dancing back on his feet, eyeing the crowd.

Bokuto’s heart came to a full stop when those brown eyes with golden hues met his own. Because he would recognize them anywhere. His mouth opened in shock, trying to form Terushima’s name – but he couldn’t speak. The crowd around him was cheering, calling “Ilios”, whistling, not realizing that for a semi-second, the dancer had completely frozen on stage. He had resumed his dance, but his eyes never left Bokuto. Even when he lifted the rim of his tunic to reveal the top of his thighs, biting his lips sensually. Something was stirring in Bokuto at the sight – something deep and primal, desire, a desire he hadn’t felt that powerful since the first time he had undressed Terushima, worshipping every inch of blushing skin that appeared. It grew stronger as more skin appeared, sparkling gold and glitters just like stardust, when Terushima dropped the tunic and kept on moving with just those-

Bokuto bit his closed fist hard to contain what would have been a loud moan at the sight of his boyfriend dancing so beautifully, so erotically, in a room filled with strangers. It was taking all his will-power not to jump on the stage, grab him by the bottom of his ridiculously small shorts and drag him to the closest private space to fuck him silly. He knew he was supposed to wonder about this, but right now his brain couldn’t focus on anything else than the obscene spread of those legs and the unholy amount of skin showed. The fact that Terushima was still staring at him, seemingly without blinking, was setting him on fire. As if daring him to do anything. To extend a hand to grab him, even just a finger to brush against him. Which seemed kinda ridiculous when Bokuto knew this same body perfectly, but it just seemed… completely new, now.

He gulped when Terushima’s hands slid on his torso, and down to his crotch, teasing, tantalizing, pulling just a bit on the belt of his last item of clothes – enough to make his blood boil, but not enough to reveal anything. One last twirl, and the music stopped, everything went dark, and the crowd burst into applause. Bokuto took a deep breath, cursing the raging hard-on he now sported, and thinking that he really, really needed to get out of there as another dancer appeared. He was about to head out when someone grabbed his arm.

“Ilios has asked for you”, they said, and he nodded dumbly before following.

A door closed behind him, and suddenly he was standing in the lodges, dancers were staring at him, whispering amongst themselves, and Terushima was leaning against a wall, still wearing only his shorts and high-heels. In the crude light of the lodges, he could see the smudges of make-up everywhere on his body, and the drops of sweat rolling down his limbs. He could see the quivering of his tired muscles, and he fell in love all over again – with the hard-working but never complaining Yuuji he had learned to know, the guy who never seemed serious, who always joked, only to hide his heart of glass.

“You-” Terushima started.

But Bokuto strode to him, closing the space between them in a matter of seconds before grabbing him and passionately kissing his lips – and to hell with the smudges of gold he probably now had over his own lips and nose and chin. He pressed harder, and Terushima gasped. That was enough for him to claim his mouth and kiss him until he was dizzy.

“You were amazing”, he muttered in a heavy breath as they parted.

Terushima chuckled.

“Thank you. Now, will you tell me what you were doing here?”  
“I was bored”, Bokuto answered, hands on Terushima’s hips before he dived for his neck, kissing it hungrily, hands dropping to his ass – he really, really liked those shorts, okay. “I’m not bored anymore”, he added.

Terushima pulled away, and Bokuto realized he seemed worried.

“Koutarou, please, listen to me”, Terushima said.  
“I want you” he whined, and usually Terushima yielded.  
“Koutarou”, he insisted, pushing him away, “listen to me. Don’t say a word about this to Kuroo, okay?”  
“But-”  
“Don’t.”  
“Okay, okay, I won’t, just let me-”  
“I’m disgusting Koutarou. All sweaty and covered in make-up. Also we’re in public”, Terushima said, his voice more teasing than really protesting.  
“I don’t care”, Bokuto replied.  
“ _We_ do”, one of the dancers retorted, throwing Terushima his clothes. “Put your clothes on and just go with him.”  
“But I-”  
“The Waterlily will handle your late-night part. Just go.”

Terushima nodded his thanks, quickly pulling on his clothes and discarding his short in a box, before grabbing Bokuto’s hand and rushing outside. He chuckled when his impatient boyfriend pushed him against a wall to kiss him dizzy, pulling away and urging him to walk faster. There was no one home when they arrived – only a message on Bokuto’s phone from Kuroo, saying he’d get home later than usual. Though it still should have been earlier than Terushima, but Kuroo wasn’t supposed to know that. They stumbled through the house and to the bathroom, kissing and groping at each other, and Bokuto was sporting just as much make-up as Terushima was, the golden smudges making them grin foolishly.

“Wait a minute”, Terushima gasped, “I really, really need to drink.”

He departed from the bathroom to get some water in the kitchen before coming back, looping his arms around a half-naked Bokuto as they got into the shower, slamming him against the wall.

“Fuck me senseless, Kou”, Terushima breathed with a sly grin.

 

Kuroo unlocked the door, making sure to make no noise. He didn’t know if Bokuto would be sleeping or not – Bokuto’s sleeping schedule was a mess, sometimes he was asleep by eight and a half, other times he was still yelling loudly at two in the morning, which usually resulted in him being shut out on the balcony. The apartment was in the dark. He stepped out of his shoes and hang his jacket next to the door, before stepping farther into the darkness. There was light coming out from the bedroom, and… something on the floor, he realized when he stepped in it with his sock. Something yucky. He scrunched his nose and bent to look at it.

“Why the fuck are there drenched clothes on the floor”, he muttered, picking up said clothes that had been shed from the bathroom and slamming everything into the washing machine.

The bathroom was flooded and he cursed under his breath, mopping everything before taking his own shower to get all of this out of his mind. He pulled on his underwear before stepping out of the bathroom to go the bedroom, and paused there. Terushima and Bokuto were both sound asleep on top of the ruffled sheets, the smaller one pinned to the bed by the weight of the second one and breathing with difficulty, though it didn’t seem to disturb Bokuto. Now the clothes on the floor and the flooded bathroom made sense. He shook his head and pulled Bokuto away with some difficulty, as he didn’t wake up. Bokuto pushed aside, he could now see Terushima – and more precisely the hand-shaped bruises on his hips and on the back of his thighs, and the marks on his neck and chest. Which was weird because since he started his new job, Terushima had forbidden them to mark him – no matter how much he liked that. A crease appeared on his forehead. Terushima was going to be mad at Bokuto. Sighing heavily, he managed to pull away the blankets, throwing them on the floor before grabbing another set that wouldn’t be dirty. He was too tired for this, way, way too tired, he thought as he fell asleep.

Kuroo woke up in the early Sunday afternoon, groaning before he opened his eyes. Terushima was still sleeping soundly, clearly exhausted, and probably not able to move, but Bokuto was already up. He could smell the distant smell of pancakes. He kissed lightly Terushima’s shoulder before getting out of bed and dragging his feet to the kitchen.

“Rough night?” he asked cheekily as he ogled his boyfriend standing there in nothing but a worn-out pair of grey sweatpants.

Bokuto almost dropped the pan before turning around. A blush crept on his cheeks and down his neck. That’s new, Kuroo thought. Bokuto had stopped blushing a while ago at Kuroo snide insinuations.

“Yeah”, he answered, his voice just a breath.  
“Tell me.”

Bokuto shook his head.

“I promised I wouldn’t.”  
“What? Why not?”

Bokuto perked up, turning around and smiling broadly. He crossed the kitchen to whisper in his ear.

“I promised I wouldn’t tell, but I can show you. Just be patient, okay?”

Kuroo stared at him, squinting his eyes.

“Okay”, he said. “Now, where is my good morning kiss?” he added, arms pulling him close by his waist.

Bokuto’s eyes crinkled in a smile as he pecked Kuroo’s lips, hugging him tightly for a moment. Kuroo held back his chuckle. He always found very endearing how cuddly Bokuto was. Terushima and him weren’t that fond of cuddles, but they had learnt how important it was for Bokuto – how easily he got skin starved. And suddenly Bokuto gasped.

“My pancakes!”

 

There was definitely something weird going on, but Kuroo couldn’t say what. He was hanging on to Bokuto’s promise that he would understand in due time – and Bokuto seemed to find it very funny. He had made him promise to be at home on Wednesday night, and to _not say a thing_ about it to Terushima. Kuroo wasn’t sure what to think about all of this. He liked surprises, but sometimes Bokuto went too far. Way too far.

But finally Wednesday evening was here, Terushima grabbed his things, kissed them goodbye with some sort of warning look to Bokuto who smiled sweetly before going out. They waited a moment, to be sure Terushima was gone, before scrambling for the bedroom. Bokuto was smashingly beautiful with his dark blue bootcut jeans and white shirt slightly open on his torso, Kuroo thought as he difficulty pulled on his black skinny jeans. Bokuto snickered and Kuroo rose an eyebrow, but Bokuto only shook his head. Kuroo grunted and searched through Bokuto’s clothes.

“Look at that”, he said. “Your high-school volleyball uniform.”  
“Oh that? I-”

Bokuto gulped as Kuroo put it on. It fit alright, as Bokuto had always had broader shoulders than him, even as a teen.

“What do you say?”  
“That I don’t want anyone to see you like this”, Bokuto growled.

Kuroo laughed before taking the t-shit off and throwing it on the bed, deciding on one of Bokuto’s black tank-tops that were too big on him, pooling around his hips and showing off largely his collarbones and sides. Bokuto stared at him with an expression that said “you’re not going out like that”. Kuroo only blew him a kiss before putting on his shoes and grabbing a jacket.

Bokuto didn’t seem to be in a hurry to get him where he wanted to, Kuroo realized as they went from bar to bar, just enough to make him slightly dizzy and uninhibited. Bokuto finally looked at his phone and said:

“Alright, let’s go, we should be on time.”

Kuroo followed him, frowning when they entered the club. He didn’t know Bokuto went to these places, actually he was kind of surprised. Bokuto grabbed his hand and pulled him through the crowd. Kuroo’s eyes widened at the sight of the bodies moving in the dark, dancing, not really a show but enough to make him wonder about what would follow. He turned to look at Bokuto.

“Why did you drag me here?”  
“Look”, Bokuto simply said with a smile.

And Kuroo looked.

“And now, Ilios!” a voice loudly announced, and the crowd around them erupted into cheers and calls and applauses.

Ilios had to be a great dancer, considering the reactions, Kuroo deduced. The room went completely dark and the crowd quiet, holding its breath, and Kuroo was holding his with them. The music suddenly blasted through the speakers, a single spotlight turning on to show no more than a shadow draped in translucent veils. There was something majestic about this figure, moving slowly as if the music held no power over it.

All of a sudden, the dancer turned, shedding the veils around his shoes, his platforms so high Kuroo cringed, undulating towards the crowd. There was nothing more than a pair of boxers on top of those legs, a crown of golden laurels on top of that head, and white lips popping in the dark. He felt Bokuto gasp against him, and his eyes widened as they landed on the dancer’s face. He double-checked just in case, and turned to Bokuto who was laughing at his expression of total incomprehension and astonishment.

“How did you find out that?!” he asked over the music.  
“Pure luck, baby”, Bokuto answered with a grin, “but damn it’s worth it”, he added, turning his eyes back to Terushima who was still dancing.

Terushima didn’t seem to have noticed them – but then, the room was really dark. Darker than the previous time, Bokuto said. And he had to focus on his performance, not on searching his boyfriends’ faces in the crowd surrounding him. Bokuto could feel Kuroo shiver and tremble each time Terushima moved particularly sensually, or discovered just a bit more of his skin, and he smirked at the idea of his boyfriend ready to snap. He pulled him against him, arms wrapped around his waist as he nibbled on his ear.

“Don’t you think this calls for some kind of reaction from us?” Bokuto whispered in Kuroo’s ear.  
“Yeah”, Kuroo answered, but there was no taking his eyes off Terushima, still dancing in front of him. “I’m so in love.”  
“I know right”, Bokuto chuckled. “Makes you want to wreck him, doesn’t it?”

Kuroo hummed in response, and the song ended under a thunderous applause as the light went off once more, allowing Terushima to grab all his veils back before he went back to the lodge. Bokuto and Kuroo exchanged a look and went there, only to be stopped by the door.

“You can’t go there”, the guy said. “Staff only.”  
“We just want to see Ilios”, Kuroo said.  
“Ilios doesn’t do private shows. Turn away now, please.”

Kuroo rolled his eyes but didn’t insist – after all, the guy was only doing his job and protecting Terushima. They turned away and went back to the crowd, crossing it towards the exit. They were almost there when a guy bumped into Kuroo, a bit tipsy it seemed, as he giggled, holding onto the guy next to him.

“Sorry”, he said.  
“It’s no pro- Iwaizumi?! What are you doing here?”

Iwaizumi straightened, looking at them before beaming, an arm around Kyoutani’s waist.

“Kuroo and Bokuto! It’s Shigeru’s first night here, of course we came to cheer for him.”

Bokuto opened his mouth to answer, but found nothing to say on the account of this weird situation. Iwaizumi looked around.

“And where is Terushima?”

Kuroo and Bokuto exchanged a look.

“Here”, a voice said behind them, and Terushima appeared, clad in his usual clothes and clearly seething. “What is going on here?”  
“We’re going home”, Kuroo said, grabbing his hand. “Nice seeing you guys”, he added for Iwaizumi and Kyoutani.

Mere seconds later, they were outside the club, and Terushima yanked his hand away.

“What the-”

His question was interrupted by Kuroo, who lunged for his lips and captured them in a searing kiss. When he finally released Terushima, he was panting and his anger had obviously melted, eyes unfocused.

“Wow”, he whispered, leaning against Bokuto.  
“How about we take this back home?” Kuroo purred in his ear.

Terushima inhaled sharply, eyes fluttering, before he nodded.

“Carry me”, he said to Bokuto, who happily complied.

The walk home seemed to be excruciatingly slow, until finally Terushima’s back hit the bed, his boyfriends crawling aside him.

“Say”, he murmured as Bokuto pressed kisses to his throat and chest, “you’re not bothered about my job, are you?”

They shook their heads.

“I wish you’d tell us though”, Kuroo said.  
“But that was the hottest thing I’ve seen in a while”, Bokuto added.

Kuroo and Terushima looked at him, their faces saying “we don’t believe you”. Bokuto was too easy to rile up and the “hottest thing” ranged from Kuroo lazing in bed with Bokuto’s t-shirt on, to Terushima’s dancing, through the two of them kneeling between his legs. Bokuto seemed to realize his mistake, because his expression changed completely.

“Tetsu… Tetsu you said we had to react…”  
“My opinion changed”, Kuroo growled, glancing at Terushima. “Help me, baby?”

Terushima grinned, sitting up and crawling menacingly towards Bokuto.

“My pleasure”, he said, hands wrapping on Bokuto’s shoulders to pull him down.  
“Please! Have mercy on me”, Bokuto said.  
“No”, Kuroo simply answered.

Terushima laughed, his heart fluttering at the thought of how much he loved his two idiots.

“We’re merciless”, he retorted anyway, “ _Koutarou_ ”.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it! Don't hesitate to comment and tell me what you thought, or just scream about BoKuroTeru with me!


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